| Subject: I M P O R T A N T |
Author:
Machete
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Date Posted: 20:01:02 07/21/03 Mon
The heavens were scattered in regulated subterfuge, mottled with the looming presence of a low-hanging storm. It was a tenebrous shroud, reaching out with asphyxiating malevolence and surging across the once-comatose zephyr. The lands had been pressured with ennui, the trees pressing the sole members inward with gnarled hands and throbbing heat. It was a conflagration, every pixel taken in with mollified orbs wavering from the constant, pounding heat. Every beast’s form was warped with scintillation; tongue’s extracted with an ever present lolling, bodies thrown with jagged, limp forms upon the dry plantation. So this blasphemy of clouds slipping across the heavens with reptilian ripples of sinew came as a complete surprise to the few remaining denizens.
There was an implemented, rapid pace of the storm, unlike the usual lethargy, which was commonly hand-in-hand with summer showers. This moved unnaturally however, and soon the thunder began to crack in unforeseen, hell-like sacrilege. The trees capitulated beneath its quaking power, shrinking their virulent branches in their last, breeching attempt to strive at the crackling lithosphere. The stagnant air of pinnacled hierarchy was gone—the air was defiled with winds of change.
A streak of lightning surged through the air like a scythe of articulation, igniting a tree that had previously stood rather stoically in the middle of the lands. The flames began in embers of mirth, smoldering about the branches in sporadic profanity. Soon however, it began a simultaneous reaction, epitomizing corruption. The nox shone crimson, showing a forbearing spitfire of a pregnant evening—something big was coming, it was all too clear. The apex of the tree came tumbling to the ground with a threatening licking of the flames that surrounded the carcass. The ceasure-like movement of the fire’s light gave a stippled effect on the dismembered trees that stood in pining shock behind the fallen. It was now a gargantuan ball of blaspheme fire, looming and threatening vehemently to all the surrounding lupines. But fiercely, against the fire’s multifaceted colors display something green flashed—acidic, looming, terror-inducing. They were two orbs, obviously, ensnaring with the dual power of forcing a downcast submission. Attached to them was a face of acrimony, as the form maimed its way through the flames toward the scattered residence with a hellish stratagem. In a biblical setting he parted the flames. Not so much parted as glided through them with agility, being built lighter than his brother. Metaphorically, he was the Scar to the Mufasa. Slinking, looming, jarred and jutted, his frame slid easily in ground-eating strides.
He paused for a moment of respite to gaze around at the less-than-utopian surroundings. An inciting, tangible aspersion in his diligent eye, they swam with an unnatural jade tint. They wouldn’t accept him at first, perhaps—he wasn’t outwardly evil, nor sickeningly introverted. He just happened to enjoy the blood under his nails and the enticing smell of a rogue fight than his sibling counterpart had. Hell, look where it got him. And his mate had done nothing but drop what had been earned so frugally by his family—he had come to reclaim what was rightfully his.
"People of the Dominion, I am your new King. Brother of Khastin, the Fallen, I have come to reclaim what Enchancee has let surge into comatose dillusions. We shall reclaim our place as it once was--respect, fear, power. Let my words undulate about the lands; the Evils will return with fervor."
His eyes shifted to the pups.
"We shall watch them together...and they will develop into the hierarchy which shall serve the kingdom well. But in time, I shall take the title which many seem to often slink from."
He knows they will not believe him at first--hell, he wouldnt believe himself. But what other choice did he have though--his blood ran in spite for the Queen who had left them, and he returned to the defiled terrain to right the wrongs and praise the loyal.
And so..
The successor of Khastin has finally come in the aid of the others..
Although Band has fiercely remained loyal, he has come to take the boulder from the other's shoulders to his own...
S o n o f a W A R L O R D
T o d o a s h e P L E A S E
C r i m i n a l M A S T E R M I N D
F R I E N D o f t h e T R E E S
. M A C H E T E.
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